


Something Fearless

by mrs_leary (julie)



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-04
Updated: 2009-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 09:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/mrs_leary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colin pretty much falls for Bradley right from the start, but it takes him months to admit it even to himself, and even longer for the boys to make any kind of relationship work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Fearless

**Author's Note:**

> There is lots of gratitude needed here!  
> ♥ I had this fic planned for a while – for some reason I got the urge to start telling the Bradley/Colin story all over again, and telling it whole. But the title came from an icon by **jenlynn820** that coalesced a few ideas for me. (I then rather belatedly discovered that she'd written fic with the same title, which makes me a bit of an idiot. Thank you for the inspiration, jenlynn820, and apologies if I annoyed you. It was an honest blunder.)  
>  ♥ With thanks to everyone who commented on a post in the **bradleycolin** LJ community for their generous and hilarious input re Colin’s sense of humour. So many people commented that it seemed a bit silly to try to list everyone here – but I definitely appreciated it all! Any unfunny jokes in the story are of course my own.  
>  ♥ Thanks are also due to **syrosis** who kindly prompted a particular scene; and **gealach_ros** who helped with research.  
>  ♥ And much gratitude is due to **cotharay** who offered some very relevant truths that may well apply to our Colin, though (sorry, hon) I didn’t end up using them directly. The fic kind of turned out different to what I’d envisaged!
> 
> This is dedicated to to **cotharay** , my fellow Colin!nut.

♦

### one

‘We understand that you haven’t met Bradley James yet.’

‘Not yet.’ Colin frowned. ‘Or not that I remember.’

They laughed with some irony. ‘Oh, you’d remember.’

Colin Morgan put on a smile and went along with the joke, but his optimism sagged a little. This was his first proper meeting with the _Merlin_ producers and creators since they’d confirmed Colin had got the role, and he was determined that everything would go absolutely smoothly.

One of them – Johnny Capps – handed over a headshot. Bradley James. Blond, handsome, confident.

‘Well, he certainly _looks_ the part,’ Colin offered. The last guy they’d been considering had looked – to Colin – more like he should be playing Mordred.

‘Yeah,’ said another of them – Julian Murphy, Colin was pretty sure. ‘He’s got the swagger, but he’s got the good heart, too.’

‘And he _looks_ good. He _looks_ like a prince of England. Hell, he even _sounds_ like one.’

‘Yes,’ said Colin, still staring down at Bradley James. Damn. He didn’t just look _good_ – he was _gorgeous_. At least in the photo. Colin knew all too well that headshots could be misleading. His own was surprisingly attractive.

Johnny said, ‘The two characters are opposites in many ways, but they have enough similarities in their foundations to make the friendship a solid one. To be frank, we’re going for the same dynamics in the casting. On the surface, you and Bradley seem quite different. But in the depths, in the things that really matter, I think you’ll find you have a lot in common.’

Colin looked around at the others, taking this in. They were all looking back at him very seriously. Far too seriously. After a while, Colin started, ‘If you think there’s going to be a problem –’

‘No, no,’ said Johnny. ‘Of course not,’ said the others. ‘No, it’ll be great.’ But they were still watching him carefully.

‘I can promise you that it’s important to me to be professional. This is a really important job for me. I wouldn’t let anything get in the way of doing the work, and doing it as well as I can.’

‘Of course. Of course.’ _Still_ watching.

OK. Colin kept his cool, and didn’t try to fill the silence.

‘Look,’ Johnny finally said. ‘Bradley’s a nice guy, and he always means well. But he’s very outgoing. The class clown, you know? He teases and jokes. Sometimes it goes a bit too far. Do you think you can handle that kind of thing?’

‘Of course,’ said Colin, projecting all his sturdy confidence. Such as it was. He may have drawn on some acting skills there.

‘You’re a quieter kind of guy,’ Johnny continued, though Colin really wasn’t sure he needed this to be spelt out in such company. ‘If you ever find him a bit much, and he won’t take a hint from you, then tell me. Talk to any of us – whatever feels comfortable for you. And we’ll make sure it’s OK.’

Colin said, ‘I’m _certain_ that won’t become necessary.’

Johnny nodded. ‘Just in case. Just so as you know.’

‘Aye,’ said Colin, very quietly and calmly. ‘Just so I know.’

♦

### two

Colin Morgan met Bradley James for the first time the next day. They shook hands, met each other’s curious gaze – both showing ready willing and able, though each was as nervous as the other. There wasn’t much time for chat, which was probably just as well, because Colin had never been one for small talk – added to which, Bradley was frowning, and asking Colin to repeat almost everything he said. Colin thought maybe his nervousness was making him mutter. Or maybe it was Bradley’s gorgeousness, which only went to prove that some headshots no matter how flattering could still never convey the full impact of a genuine beauty…

Things went smoother once Johnny had them running lines, and indeed they soon had the timing working very nicely indeed for Merlin and Arthur’s banter. But whenever Johnny had Colin talk _about_ Merlin rather than _as_ Merlin, Bradley would look more and more puzzled. Finally Bradley said, ‘Look, either I’m half deaf, or completely thick, or it’s the accent. Can you slow down a bit? Please.’

Colin stared at him, no doubt betraying some resentment. Glanced at Johnny, who’d never seemed to have a problem understanding him. ‘All right,’ he eventually agreed.

‘Sorry. It’s me. I’m an idiot, but I’ll pick up on it, yeah?’

‘Yeah. Sure.’

‘Just give me a little time.’

Well, Colin supposed that at least Bradley hadn’t said anything completely unforgiveable, such as suggesting he speak ‘normal’ or ‘English’ or whatever. ‘I was just saying,’ he offered in slower, more deliberate tones – and a shade more RP, a shade less Armagh, cos he was willing to meet Bradley halfway – ‘I think Merlin’s really strong at the core, but he just doesn’t know it yet.’

‘Absolutely,’ Bradley agreed with an enthusiastic nod and a smile. ‘Absolutely, yes. Now…’ He frowned, and flipped through the pages of the script until he found the line he wanted. ‘Now, when Arthur says, _There’s something about you, Merlin_ – is that what he’s picking up on, do you think? The strength? Or is he sensing the magic? Sensing the _power_ in him.’

 _Sensing the **power** in him,_ Colin dazedly echoed, savouring this – savouring being given this.

‘Or is it even that he’s picking up on this destiny of Merlin’s? That he’s somehow going to feel – maybe not right away, but at some stage he’ll feel it’s important to have Merlin at his side? For the future.’

Colin was just kind of gaping.

Bradley turned to Johnny. ‘What was the intention there?’

Johnny seemed rather impressed, too. ‘Actually, I think you could run with all of that. Leave it open, don’t pin it down. You’re definitely on the right path there.’

Bradley nodded, and bent his head over the script, scribbled himself a note.

Colin was watching him with something like awe in his heart.

♦

As the two of them left the BBC offices, Bradley said, ‘You wanna get a beer?’

And Colin nodded – ‘Sure’ – cos the sooner they got the measure of each other, the better. There was _so very much_ riding on making this whole thing work. Colin was conscious of Johnny Capps watching them go, apparently approving of the fact they were leaving together, already bonding, so Colin kept his body language relaxed.

They picked a pub at random, about three blocks away, and Bradley ordered a pint of Carling, so Colin said, ‘Make that two.’ Then they found a booth, and settled in. Swapped notes about drama school and their acting experience to date. Bradley was frowning a lot, and paying close attention to what Colin said, but he still needed to have some things repeated, even though Colin was still making it a bit easier for him. But he was trying, Bradley was genuinely making an effort – so eventually, once they were into their second pints, Colin decided to lay it all on the line, and he confessed, ‘I’m really needing this to work out – _Merlin_ , I mean.’

Bradley nodded. ‘Yeah, of course. We both need that. Don’t we?’

‘Yeah. Sure.’

‘I mean, it’s _way_ bigger than anything else either of us have done.’

Colin just nodded vague agreement.

After a moment, Bradley ducked his head in an apologetic way. ‘Sorry. What were you gonna say? Before I leapt in with a pre–emptive agreement.’

He took a moment, took a breath, but then Colin confessed, ‘Just that… I’m needing this to work out. Cos I was in a pretty bad place for a while. And I’m wanting to get back on the right track, yeah?’

Bradley was nodding, very seriously, through most of this – and when he was sure that Colin was done, Bradley immediately said, ‘Of course. Yes. I understand.’ And he was obviously curious but restraining himself from asking about the bad place and all that involved. Colin gave him bonus points for tact. This guy wasn’t just a gorgeous face. In fact, Bradley offered with light sincerity, ‘You need any help with that, you just let me know.’

‘Sure,’ said Colin, knowing how extremely unlikely it was that he would take Bradley up on this. Nevertheless it was a good thing to hear. All seemed well.

♦

Until they were into their third pints, and Colin was sitting sprawled down low in his seat with a happy buzz going on – and Bradley leaned across the table with a wicked smile curving that gorgeous mouth, and said, ‘There’s something about you, Colin Morgan. And I’ve finally put my finger on it.’

‘What’s that?’ Colin prompted with a silly sloppy smile.

‘You’re gay.’

The buzz vanished, and Colin pushed himself upright, spluttering in protest.

‘Huh!’ Bradley cried in triumph, before grinning knowingly. ‘You _are_ , aren’t you?’

Colin huffed, and stammered, ‘C–can neither confirm n–nor deny –’

‘Oh, come _on_ …’

A bit more spluttering before he managed, ‘Anyway, why d’you say that?’

‘Takes one to know one.’ With a wink.

‘Jesus…’ Colin muttered in prayer. This was going to be an utter fucking disaster.

♦

Late that night, and into the small hours of the morning, Colin lay awake or wandered restlessly around his hotel room in the grey darkness. Stared out the window at the lights of Cardiff for long stretches of time. Pondering.

Merlin was really strong at the core of him. His foundations were solid. He was _powerful_. Merlin didn’t know it yet, didn’t even guess at it, but he could survive anything; Uther would be nothing compared to Merlin in full flight.

But then, there were some things you wouldn’t want to live through. There were some things you would rather destroyed you. Because you wouldn’t want to go on, surviving but not living, continuing but not sane. Forever seeking, out of balance, and never finding peace. Merlin’s strength might save him, or it might unravel him and leave him open to every passing breeze, every thundering storm.

♦

### three

Bradley dumped an overloaded plate of lasagne, vegetables and chips on the table beside Colin, and dropped into the next seat. ‘Morgan,’ he said, looking over at Colin’s rather sparser plate of salad, ‘what on _earth_ are you eating? I won’t dignify it by calling it rabbit food. We had bunnies as pets when I was a kid, and we fed them _way_ better than that.’

‘Nothing wrong with salad,’ Colin muttered.

‘What?’

He cleared his throat. ‘Catering make good salads,’ Colin asserted. ‘You should try some one day.’

‘What?!’

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake…’

‘No, actually I heard you that time. I untangled the accent all by myself. I just don’t _do_ salads.’

Colin looked at him flatly. ‘You don’t _do_ salads,’ he echoed with more than a touch of sarcasm.

‘I’ll have you know,’ Bradley said loftily, ‘it takes a great deal of meat and carbs to maintain the perfections of this manly body. Of which you do not get enough.’

If only glares could kill… ‘Like I’m even wanting it.’

‘Not my body, you idiot – though you know you do. Want it, I mean. But the meat and carbs.’

Colin’s blood was starting to simmer. ‘I do _not_ have to justify being a vegetarian to _you_!’

Bradley just looked at him for a long moment, unusually silent. And of course he had pretty much quit hassling Colin on that issue once he’d finally realised his hero Tony Head was also a vegetarian. As the banter fell away, Bradley became serious. ‘You’re losing weight,’ he commented.

Colin shrugged. ‘So?’

‘So… It’s not like you really need to. It’s not for the role, is it?’

‘What it’s _not_ … is your concern.’

‘You’re not gonna take it too far? I knew this girl at drama school who –’

‘Fuck’s sake, Bradley…’ he complained.

A beat, and then Bradley shrugged. Turned back to his lunch. The two of them munched in silence for a while, until Colin finished his salad and got up and walked away.

♦

Their relationship had slid from sincere to irritable, and Colin wasn’t quite sure how or why. It had been too quick a thing, with too many tiny inevitable steps, for him to be able to point to a particular moment when things had changed – but here they were, only two weeks into filming on the sets in Cardiff, and he and Bradley were really not getting along. Colin wouldn’t have minded the teasing and bantering, if only it didn’t always come with an edge of ill will. Colin wouldn’t have minded Bradley being so damnably gorgeous, if only Bradley wasn’t always aware of it, too. Aware of Colin finding him so, that was – Bradley wasn’t vain, though he _was_ honest. Too honest to deny his own good looks, and what a boon they were to an actor. His matter–of–fact attitude was actually kind of refreshing, if only he wasn’t also aware that…

That Colin thought far too much about the looks and the actor and the man, and the fact that they just couldn’t seem to get along, damn it.

 _If you think there’s going to be a problem_ , he remembered saying, in all the confidence of his ignorance, to the people who at this point could create or destroy his career… Well, it was up to Colin himself to sort it out, wasn’t it?

♦

At least they were getting the work done, and doing it well as far as Colin could tell. The director for the first block of episodes was James Hawes, and he didn’t seem unhappy with them. When he needed to, Colin took refuge in the role – but he never let Merlin hide from Arthur.

‘ _I know I’m just a servant,_ ’ Merlin said, laying himself open to Arthur with quiet emphatic sincerity. ‘ _My word doesn’t count for anything. But I wouldn’t lie to you._ ’

Bradley gave himself just as honestly to his role. Arthur considered Merlin carefully, and had enough faith in his new servant to place his honour on the line. ‘ _I believe you._ ’

And then the hurt between them when it all went wrong and Arthur had been humiliated… Bradley and Colin pitched it perfectly. The beginnings of real friendship, the growing trust and the accompanying sense of betrayal, the possibilities for a true partnership between Arthur and Merlin. It was great. They just needed to work on something like it for real as well.

♦

### four

Colin was meant to be on a break. Instead he found himself propped in a dark corner, listening to Bradley’s fair–minded Arthur argue with Tony’s ruthless Uther over the fate of Morgana’s maid servant. It had cost Bradley and Colin a really late night for Bradley to get these lines word–perfect, but it had been well worth it. Arthur was arguing cogently and reasonably for this girl he’d been otherwise oblivious to, in stark contrast to Katie’s emotional and deeply involved Morgana. Arthur was taking exactly the right line with Uther, though they all knew it would do no good – he was describing shades of grey to a man who could only see black and white. The prince was starting to sketch out his own future kingdom. Colin smiled. It was just as well Tony was also a great actor, or his Uther would never be able to convincingly shrug Arthur off.

When James Hawes was finally satisfied, Bradley nodded at Tony and Katie, and walked off the set suddenly looking a bit wrecked. He didn’t know it yet, but his path took him right past Colin. ‘Nailed it,’ Colin said approvingly.

‘Oh. Colin, yeah…’ Bradley slowed down, stopped. Turned away for a moment, before facing Colin directly. ‘Look. Thank you. For last night… That was –’

A startled glance from Katie as she walked past, and a studiously unshockable expression on Tony’s face as he followed her, deliberately _not_ looking at them.

Colin smirked. Oh, he just couldn’t resist. ‘Sure,’ he said quick and low, but knowing from his theatre work that his voice would carry. ‘Did props miss the manacles, or d’you get them back in time?’

Katie snorted. Even Tony let out an amused breath. _Hah._

‘Bastard,’ Bradley muttered. And he glared at Colin, turned on his heel, and stomped off after their colleagues.

It was kind of a pity, but Colin had to laugh. After all, he and Bradley were never going to get anywhere if they couldn’t laugh together.

♦

Dave would bring the people carrier down to the hotel each morning. If all six of them were needed at the castle, Katie and Angel would claim the second row of seats, and Tony and Richard the third row, while Bradley liked to take the passenger seat up front. Colin would just slip in somewhere, wherever he fit, depending on what mood he was in. That morning he swung into the front, nudging Bradley towards the middle seat with his hip.

‘Morgan, what are you **_do_** _ing_?’

‘I’d be sitting with you, Bradley James,’ he replied in his heaviest Armagh.

‘Oh _god_ ,’ Bradley grumbled once he’d taken a moment to interpret this. But he shifted over before Colin could actually sit on his lap, and belted himself in. There wasn’t quite room for the three of them across the width of the car, so Bradley pointedly slanted his shoulders towards Dave, in effect turning his back to Colin.

Despite or because of which, on the trip through mid–morning Villers–Cotterêts, Dave humoured Colin by starting the game they played when it was just the two of them. ‘What about this one, mate?’ Dave asked, indicating a pedestrian.

‘Not worth your while,’ Colin replied dismissively. ‘Only five points for old ladies. You know the zimmer frames slow them down.’

Bradley was unimpressed. ‘Colin…’

‘What? They’re too easy!’

 _‘Colin…’_

‘Oh, all right. Ten points. But that’s all… Ooh, fifty for the kid on the bike! Look at him go! Come on, or you’ll miss him!’

Dave chuckled, and made a show of putting his foot down and swerving in the required direction.

‘Will you _please_ not encourage him,’ Bradley said flatly to their driver while gripping the dashboard.

Colin remained undeterred. ‘Next time you’ll have to get up on the pavement to get him, Dave, and to hell with the paintwork.’

‘Sure, mate.’

Then they were out into the French countryside – forests and then fields, and a few minutes later Bradley’s favourite part of the trip. The crops flowed smoothly up and away from them towards a near horizon, and then suddenly the turrets of the castle rose beyond the grain as if it were lifting out of an underground kingdom into the light. Colin surreptitiously watched Bradley as he watched this little bit of magic, his lips parted on an indrawn breath as usual.

Colin had ruined the moment in a number of ways before now – his favourite being the rather obvious, _Camelot! Camelot! Camelot! (It’s only a model. Shush.)_ But today he slipped his hand into Bradley’s, and squeezed it affectionately.

Once the magic was over, Bradley favoured him with a wary glance, and Colin smiled happily. He only got a frown in return, and then Bradley turned away again. But he didn’t withdraw his hand. Even when Bradley saw that Dave was smiling, too, or at least trying to suppress a grin… Bradley just sighed in his most long–suffering manner.

♦

Colin brought over cutlery and enough bread for both of them, then went to fetch butter and napkins, before sliding into the seat beside Bradley.

‘Thanks,’ said Bradley, not looking up from his script.

‘Oh well,’ said Colin, ‘it’s nothing. I’d do the same for a black fellow.’

 _‘Colin!’_ Poor Bradley. He seemed genuinely shocked.

‘Yes?’

‘Good god… You wouldn’t say that if Angel were here, would you?’

‘Why not?’ He did his finest deadpan innocent expression. Honestly, he should get an award.

Bradley spluttered in horrified disbelief. ‘You are **_un_** _be **liev** able_!’

♦

He repeated this in entirely different tones on their last night in France. ‘Colin… _Colin_ …’ All breathless need as he pushed Colin up against a wall just round the corner from where cast and crew were partying. ‘God, you’re unbelievable…’ Mouthing at Colin’s throat, while hands ran hard and hungry down his chest and then round to clutch at his waist.

‘Stop it,’ said Colin even while he tilted his head back to allow Bradley’s lips and teeth and tongue more scope. ‘Stop it.’

‘You don’t mean that.’

‘I’m meaning it,’ he regretfully insisted.

‘ _God,_ Colin,’ Bradley groaned, quitting the kissing and caressing, but pressing close up against him instead, resting his forehead heavy on Colin’s shoulder. ‘Don’t tell me no,’ he begged.

‘I’m telling you no.’

‘ _Why?_ Give me one good reason why.’

‘I’m needing this job to work out. I told you that. I can’t afford to stuff this up.’

‘We wouldn’t be stuffing anything up…’

‘Come on,’ said Colin, lifting his hands to cup Bradley’s face, insisting on being looked at. ‘You know that affairs with colleagues are never smart.’

Bradley’s gaze dropped to Colin’s mouth, obviously with intent – _intense_ intent – and for a moment Colin almost went with it, almost let this gorgeous man kiss him. Jesus, he wanted this. He wanted it _so bad_ …

‘Let’s get back to the others,’ Colin whispered. ‘We’ll be friends. All right? Friends.’

‘Friends,’ Bradley echoed, sounding kind of broken. But he straightened up, shook himself off. ‘Friends,’ he repeated, as if it might take him a while to get used to that concept.

‘I’ll go get us another beer,’ Colin offered.

♦

### five

Except that it was next to impossible to be friends when within moments of Santiago Cabrera appearing on the set in Wales, Bradley cast one last wistful glance at Colin – and then gave himself over to Santiago’s passionately welcoming kiss. Right there, on the set. There weren’t more than ten or twelve other people around, but still… Colin watched, eventually becoming aware that he was gaping. The kiss segued into an affectionate conversation, while the two men remained deep in each other’s arms, resting their foreheads together.

So, thought Colin. Bradley and Santiago had a thing going on. And they didn’t mind who knew about it.

He watched them together through the long days of filming – both of them comfortable, each of them more gorgeous than the other. Well, that would teach Colin for doing the obvious, the unimaginative, and falling for his beautiful co–star. Not that he had _fallen_ as such… But he’d have been better off nurturing a crush on Richard or something, like Bradley’s for Tony only rather less useless.

What this certainly taught him was what a mismatch Colin and Bradley would be. Not only was Colin not even in Santiago’s league when it came to hotness, but Colin actually felt quite appalled at how _out_ Bradley was prepared to be. He and Santiago were forever greeting or farewelling each other with a kiss – or sitting close together, Santiago with a casually possessive arm round Bradley’s waist, Bradley with a hand resting easy on Santiago’s thigh, fingertips suddenly digging in to get his attention… _Jesus_ … And then there were the deep yielding groans that could be heard from Bradley’s hotel room at all hours… _Jesus Christ, preserve me,_ Colin prayed.

Katie caught Colin stranded in the hotel corridor one evening, listening to the rhythmic proof that something he couldn’t let himself have was impossible anyway. ‘Sounds like quite the workout,’ she commented, her lilting sardonic tone sounding like home.

‘Aye.’

She slipped her arm through his. ‘Come and have a drink.’

♦

‘We’re friends,’ Colin felt the compelling need to explain, much later that night. They’d found a bar with Kilkenny and Guinness on tap, which would probably seem like a huge mistake in the morning.

‘Sure you are,’ Katie agreed.

‘Sure we are. The best of friends, me ’n Bradley… Bradley Bradley Bradley James.’

‘Oh, you poor sweet boy,’ she murmured, taking his arm again, and leaning in close against him to convey the full extent of her sympathy.

‘I’m not _poor_!’ he protested. ‘Not your _poor_ boy!’

‘No, you’re my sweetest thing…’ She slid down from the bar stool, and tugged at him. ‘Time to go back. Come on… I, for one, need my beauty sleep. Though I think _you’re_ playing Merlin with a hangover in the morning, so maybe it doesn’t matter very much for you.’

Colin refused to budge. He widened his eyes in an attempt to focus on Katie, so he could tell if she were humouring him. ‘Think they’re done yet?’

‘God, I should _hope_ so!’ She huffed with ironic humour. ‘Why are gay guys the only men with stamina…?’

He grinned at her and winked, and was about to provide the wittiest retort _ever_ – when Colin suddenly found himself sprawled on the floor.

A brief moment of silent horror with Katie standing over him, peering down, examining him for injuries – and then Katie burst into hearty laughter. Well, that had been the result he’d been going for, even if it wasn’t in reaction to quite the intended cause. Colin started giggling, too, and eventually he clambered back up the bar stool to find his feet, and the two of them wandered out of the bar and down the street, holding each other up, and singing the most maudlin Irish songs they could think of. Though they never seemed to be singing quite the same song at quite the same time. But, hey – Colin was pretty sure Cardiff had heard far far worse.

♦

‘God, Bradley, would you put me _down_?’

‘Then I’d just have to lift you up again when they’re ready for take thirty–eight or whatever it is, and I don’t think even my manly arms could manage that again.’

‘Oh, and _this_ time,’ Colin continued, ‘when you fling me down on that damned bed, can you make it feel like Arthur actually _wants_ Merlin to survive?’

‘Of course I want you to survive, Merlin,’ Bradley said in his best Arthur voice. ‘Who knows _when_ I’ll need you to drink poison for me again.’

Colin heaved a sigh. ‘You know, your shoulder’s not exactly the most comfortable thing to be bent over.’

Bradley gave an inelegant snort. ‘What would you _rather_ be bent over, _Colin_? I’m sure we can find something to accommodate you.’ And he patted Colin reassuringly on the rear.

‘Hey! Stop that.’

‘Oh, I’m most **_fright_** _fully_ sorry. Did I get your narrow little arse? It’s so flat I thought it was just more of your thigh.’

‘You’re in no position to be cruel when I’m hanging here looking down at your enormous fat bum!’

‘Just where _is_ your arse, anyway?’ Bradley continued, starting to prod around the top of Colin’s thighs with a hard finger, and getting just a little bit too intimate. ‘It must be around here somewhere, probably about where you bend in half.’

‘Well, I have no trouble finding yours,’ Colin retorted, running his spread hands over both of Bradley’s buttocks with exaggerated movements indicating the sheer size of the thing…

A rich chuckle announced Angel. ‘You boys are fixated. You can get therapy for that, you know.’

‘Colin’s just jealous of my proud and manly rear.’

‘Yeah, right…’

‘Give it a rest,’ Angel said, though she didn’t sound overly concerned. ‘Anyway, we’ll start again soon. Richard’s coming.’

Bradley snorted. ‘He’s not the only one – eh, Colin?’ he added, with a provocative squeeze which proved he knew exactly where Colin’s arse was.

Colin tried not to squeak – and tried not to think too much about just what Bradley could feel pressing against his manly shoulder. ‘Never mind,’ he offered. ‘Nothing our dear old Richard hasn’t seen before.’

 _‘Did you just call Richard **old**?’_ Bradley demanded very loudly.

They were all laughing at this point, thank heavens – including Richard. ‘Ah, what you boys don’t realise is how much wisdom comes along with each and every one of these grey hairs…’

‘Pity they’re all Gaius’s hairs, then,’ Colin retorted, quick as a flash. And there was serious danger for a moment of them all collapsing into one of those stupid giggling sessions that they’d never quite shake off –

But then the set manager yelled, ‘All right – places, please!’ and the clapper board boy was muttering, ‘Is this take eight or nine?’ and the four of them managed to sober up enough to get back on duty.

♦

### six

Bradley returned from taking a phone call looking utterly disgruntled. He let the mobile drop back into his bag from a rather risky height, and muttered, ‘Mothers!’

‘Mothers, yes,’ Colin echoed wisely. ‘Can’t live with ’em. Can’t kill ’em.’

‘ ** _Col_** _in_ …’

‘Yes?’ All bright–eyed and bushy–tailed.

Bradley dropped into the seat beside him. ‘You _love_ your mother. I _know_ you do.’

‘Oh aye, I’m loving her, sure…’

‘Well, why on earth –’ Bradley cast him an exasperated look, and sighed. ‘Oh, never mind… You’re such an idiot, you know that?’

Colin grinned at him. ‘And you’re such a prat.’

‘Perfect casting, then.’

‘Yeah,’ Colin murmured, considering the gorgeousness of Bradley James. ‘Perfect…’

Bradley glanced away, unexpectedly self–conscious about being admired. When his gaze returned to Colin’s, he seemed serious. ‘One of my sisters is getting married next summer.’

‘Oh aye. Congratulations.’

‘Huh. Thanks. Mum’s already hassling me about promising to be there.’

‘You have to be there,’ Colin agreed. He found himself talking very softly, very gently. ‘You’ll be able to get the weekend off, whatever’s going on.’

Bradley shrugged. ‘Can’t **_prom_** _ise_ though, can I? The show must go on, and all that.’

‘Sure you can promise.’

He glanced hard at Colin. ‘They’re both older than me. My sisters. They both… have their own lives. I don’t see what’s so important about whether their baby brother can make it or not.’

‘ _I’d_ want you there.’

‘ _You’re_ not my sister.’

Colin grinned. ‘I’m not, no…’

‘You’ve got a brother, don’t you?’

‘Yeah, Neil. He’s older than me, too.’ Colin let out a sigh. ‘Neil got married once. Lasted all of five hours.’

‘What?!’ Bradley turned in his seat to face him directly. ‘What happened?’

‘Well, he called that night.’ Colin shrugged uncomfortably, as if it still hurt. ‘He wanted to talk to Dad.’

‘Yeah…?’

‘Said he didn’t know what to do. He’d just found out his bride was a virgin.’

Bradley opened his mouth for a moment, and then closed it again with suspicion twisting his lips. Finally he said, ‘I see.’

‘So, of course Dad said, you know… come on home. If she’s not good enough for her own family, then she’s certainly not good enough for ours.’

‘Colin.’

‘Yes?’ His patented wide–eyed innocent look.

‘I really hate you sometimes, you know?’

‘Yeah,’ he said oh–so–softly. ‘I know.’

♦

It was hardly Colin’s fault that he ended up eavesdropping on Bradley and Santiago’s farewell conversation. A group of them had gone out for dinner, and sat together at a long table out the back of an old hotel and restaurant, in a paved area of the garden. Colin went for a wander as dusk finally fell, looking at the forest which pressed in on one side of the village, considering the hotel’s serious vegetable and herb garden – and ended up lying back on the cropped grass watching the inky blue sky as it darkened.

Santiago began slowly waltzing Bradley around under the drooping willow branches down one side of the lawn, unaware they weren’t alone. ‘Mi querido…’ Santiago murmured, apparently feeling too romantic to notice that Bradley kept stepping on his toes.

‘My hot tamales lover…’

Santiago laughed, though he sounded a shade annoyed. ‘That’s not flattering, Bradley. Do you even know what Hot Tamales are?’

‘No… Sounds good, though.’ Bradley sighed. ‘You’re my hot chilli sauce?’

Santiago kissed him, which was probably a better idea than trying to swap endearments with Bradley James. Then he murmured, ‘Until next time, then, my darling…?’

Another sigh, and a restless shrug. ‘I don’t know, Santiago…’

‘What don’t you know?’

‘Maybe I can’t do this any more.’

Santiago slid his arms around Bradley’s waist, and tugged him closer. ‘Why not?’

‘This _together_ when we’re together, and _not_ when we’re not thing… I don’t think I can do it. Maybe I’m growing up.’

‘You _are_ grown up. I thought you said you were growing up back when we decided we _could_ do it.’

‘Um… so I’m regressing or something…?’

Santiago was quiet and still for a long long moments, just holding Bradley near with his hands spread wide on his back and his golden hair, like Santiago could hardly bear to let him go. ‘Then, mi querido, we will say maybe next time, maybe not…’

‘Yes,’ said Bradley gently. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I’m sorry, too, my darling.’ And they kissed, deeply, clinging on tight to each other. It appeared they were heading the way of grass stains…

Colin took the opportunity to slip away back to the party.

♦

Bradley didn’t have much to do during the sixth episode, but he spent a lot of time hanging around the set in France, keeping company with Colin or whoever else was around. Colin had to assume he was trying not to miss Santiago. And perhaps also trying not to think too hard about whether he’d been right to let go of his relationship with the other man.

Meanwhile, Bradley turned in a thoughtful performance. When Morgana fell seriously ill, Bradley made it seem perfectly natural for Arthur to put aside the sibling rivalry and bickering as if it had never even existed, and in his concern he was willing to do whatever it took. To think nothing of his own needs. _Consider my man servant at your disposal._ And yet even while anxious, he remained careful in his approach to all the different issues raised. Arthur was growing up. Of course the scriptwriters couldn’t let Arthur be the one to discover the truth about Edwin – that had to be Gaius and Merlin – but at least they let Arthur choose to fetch Gaius himself to face Uther’s judgement. He didn’t send a servant, not even Merlin. As the season progressed, it was becoming clearer and clearer that Arthur’s saving grace was that he had a good heart.

It was one of the characteristics in which the casting informed the roles. For it was an item of faith for Colin by now that Bradley had a good heart, too.

♦

Which didn’t stop Colin throwing jokes in Bradley’s way at every opportunity.

One morning Bradley was walking up from the car park while Colin was chatting with a knot of extras and crew on the drawbridge. Colin pretended not to notice Bradley until he was just within earshot – and then Colin started, and muttered a bit too loud, ‘Oh, shush, here he comes.’

Some of the others inadvertently played it perfectly, jumping in guilt even though the conversation had been about nothing more exciting than the urgent desire for a cuppa.

Bradley was way cooler about this sort of thing these days. He grimaced an _oh–very–funny–ha–ha_ face, while Colin laughed and headed off into the castle…

But instead of Bradley following him, he leant in close to the others – who obligingly drew near, as if about to hear a secret – then Bradley glanced at Colin, and proceeded to quietly spin some kind of yarn…

Colin stood there watching them, grinning. Even if Bradley was saying nothing more than, ‘Just pretend I’m telling you something completely shocking about Colin Morgan, all right?’ – well, that would be just perfect. And everyone was playing along beautifully, with the others casting wide–eyed glances in Colin’s direction, and the occasional gasp being met by Bradley’s earnest nod. ‘Oh yes,’ Bradley seemed to conclude, if Colin’s lip–reading skills were any guide, ‘he’s totally disturbed.’

Then Bradley straightened up, and strode tall towards Colin. Bradley looked superior. Colin grinned wider, and turned in beside him. They walked into the castle, shoulder to shoulder.

‘Prat,’ said Colin.

‘Idiot,’ said Bradley.

‘I love you, too.’

Bradley gave him a jostling shove with a shoulder.

Everything was perfect.

♦

### seven

‘You’re an itch I’ve got to scratch, Colin Morgan.’

Colin considered Bradley James across the table. At least Bradley had bought him a pint of Amstel before delivering this rather unattractive proposition. Colin twisted his face. ‘Does that line _ever_ work for you?’

‘You tell me. Never used it before.’

He had to shake his head. _No._

‘Colin –’

‘No, Bradley.’

‘You can’t tell me you don’t want me.’

Colin watched this gorgeous man for a long moment, and softened a little. ‘No, I can’t tell you that. But –’

‘I know, I know. The job. You don’t want to stuff up the job.’

‘Or our friendship,’ Colin immediately added. ‘I haven’t had such a good friend for… well, years. Not since school.’

Bradley smiled a little, as if he was pleased despite himself.

‘And it took us a while to get that right, didn’t it?’

‘I guess.’

‘And if this show runs for the full five years… Well, maybe you handle your ex–boyfriends better than I do, but the idea of working this closely with an ex for maybe four years – that really doesn’t appeal. I’d rather just be friends.’ When this was greeted with a sigh, Colin insisted, ‘Friends are pretty damned important, Bradley. _Real_ friends.’

‘How about… friends with privileges?’

Colin favoured him with a sour grimace. ‘You’ve already got one of those.’

Bradley shook his head, and leaned forward to say earnestly, ‘Me and Santiago, it’s not gonna happen again.’

‘Why not? Wasn’t it working for you?’

‘No, not really.’

Colin didn’t bother looking triumphant. ‘Why would it work for us, then?’

‘ _God_ , Colin…’ Bradley sat back again, crossed his arms. ‘You know what? I can’t stop thinking about you. That’s what it comes down to.’

‘And I think about you, you know,’ Colin said very quietly, very steadily. ‘But there’s too many reasons –’

‘What, there’s even _more_ reasons?’

‘Yes. Like, you’re _out_. And I am so _not_.’

‘You’re ashamed of being gay? I don’t know what century it is in Ireland, but it’s the twenty–first in England.’

Ignoring that jibe, Colin said, ‘Not ashamed. It’s just no one’s business but mine.’

‘Mine, too.’

Colin quirked a wry smile. ‘Yeah, so it’s become your business, too, Bradley James. But how you were with Santiago… That kind of thing, it’s not for me. I’m glad you feel you can do that, but I just can’t.’

Bradley was silent for a long while. Colin sipped at his beer, letting him take all this in, and mentally rearrange things as he saw fit. But apparently Bradley thought it was worth one last try. ‘I’m just talking once,’ he said flatly, directly. That beautiful face set into harsh lines. ‘Do me a favour. Get it out of my system. Satisfy my curiosity. Then I won’t bother you again.’

‘It’s not that I _expect_ to be romanced…’ Colin said sarcastically.

‘As my friend, I’m asking you to be generous.’

‘Or even seduced…’

‘Would that work?’

‘Probably not.’

‘And you won’t do it as a favour? For the sake of my peace of mind.’

He said, very gently yet very firmly, ‘No, Bradley.’

‘All right.’ Bradley stood up. Nodded once, abruptly. And he strode out of there alone.

Colin shrank down in his seat, pulse pounding like he’d just swum a marathon.

♦

### eight

The thing that changed Colin’s mind was that, despite his blunt rejection, Bradley conscientiously went about behaving in exactly the same ways – or trying to. Scrupulously pretending that everything was fine between them, and not letting their newfound friendship slip at all. Though of course it did occasionally. There were clumsy trips and silly stutters, but Bradley seemed unaware of them. He was doing his very best to be the _real_ friend that Colin said he wanted. Colin had never loved him more.

♦

Their last night in France. Everyone else partying around an oddly quiet Bradley. Colin made his way across the room, and his heart sped up from a walk to a skip as a wistful smile lit up Bradley’s face. Colin leaned in close, his lips a shiver away from Bradley’s ear. ‘I’m thinking just once, then.’

Bradley let out a breath, and swayed slightly towards him in agreement.

‘Just tonight. To satisfy our curiosity.’

‘Yes.’

‘Come back to the hotel.’

‘Thank you,’ said Bradley. And then he winced a little as he realised how much he’d just revealed of himself.

So Colin made the bravest gesture he knew how. He took Bradley’s hand in his, and led him through the crowd of their colleagues, out of the bar and into the street, and he didn’t even care _who_ saw them.

♦

The sad irony was that it didn’t really work. The sex really didn’t quite work.

It started off well enough. They were both so desperate by this time that their clothes were stripped with clumsy rapidity as soon as they were alone together in Colin’s room. They fell across the bed, naked, already deep in each other’s arms. Kissing, mouthing, ravaging with lips and teeth and tongue. Shifting against each other, pushing, stretching, arching – thrusting already. Bradley murmuring, ‘God god _god **Colin**_ …’ with his hands tangled in Colin’s hair, then sliding hard down his back, then palms impaling themselves on Colin’s hipbones.

They weren’t going to last, and Colin wanted so much more. He pushed his own hand down, delving between Bradley’s buttocks, his second finger unerringly finding its target.

Bradley gave a muffled protest, and flinched as if trying to throw him off.

 _All right._ Colin grabbed one of Bradley’s hands, and brought it around behind him. Pushed it down.

‘No,’ Bradley said, pulling away a little. Staring at him with maddened blue eyes.

‘What?’ Colin said, his breath coming hard. ‘You don’t fuck?’

Bradley’s hands curled desperately at Colin’s waist, the fingers digging in, hurting him a bit. ‘Nothing that’s not safe.’

‘I got rubbers.’

Bradley just shook his head. Pushed in for another kiss, while one of his hands disengaged, reached for Colin’s hand, brought it to Bradley’s cock. ‘Please,’ he said, raw.

Colin let his hand rest flat and gentle against the hot damp hardness – which twitched hungrily. ‘What? Tell me!’

‘Please. Colin. Hand jobs…’

But the confusion had taken the edge off Colin’s need. He shook his head. ‘I don’t –’

‘You don’t want me?’ Bradley was still desperate. Maybe more so than he’d ever been.

‘Jesus, of course I _want_ you… I don’t _under **stand**_ …’

But Bradley was past explaining. He surged up and over, lying on Colin, instinctively finding the right alignment – ground down against him, cock against cock. Colin gasped, and the excitement flared in him again. _Just once. Get it out of my system._ Bradley’s need drove them both along – and when Bradley appeared as if he were about to explode, he bent down and bit at Colin’s left nipple – and Colin shouted and arched up, the orgasm fountaining through him – and Bradley rode him out with a cry, all delicious sticky wetness between them – then he collapsed with a whimper. And they were done.

♦

‘Bradley?’ Colin asked quietly. ‘You all right?’ They were lying there on the bed, not really together, and Bradley might even have been pretending to be asleep.

But eventually he said, ‘Yeah.’

‘You wanna – You wanna tell me what you expect here?’

‘Don’t you keep it safe?’

‘Course I do. Doesn’t mean I don’t _fuck_.’

Silence.

Colin lay there staring up at the ceiling. ‘Talk to me, Bradley.’

A heavy sigh. ‘I like frot. Rubbing. Hand jobs. I’ll give you a hand job when you’re good to go again.’

‘What are we, _school_ boys?’

‘Shut up, Colin.’

‘How about a blow job?’

‘Not safe.’

‘I’ll do you. With a rubber. Pretty much no risk to you at all.’

‘No.’

Colin frowned. ‘So that’s all you do?’

‘It’s enough. It’s plenty.’ Then, a bit belligerently, ‘You ask Santiago if he was ever dissatisfied.’

‘I’m thinking not, thanks all the same.’

Silence.

 _‘Why?’_

Bradley asked, kind of hushed, ‘Haven’t you lost anyone to AIDS?’

‘Course I have. But… But, look, we both had the insurance medicals when they took us on. You wanna see my results? I’m negative. You must know that. We can still use rubbers. We should anyway, but it’s really just a precaution for us, isn’t it? It’s a matter of respect.’

Silence.

‘Except you don’t fuck,’ Colin concluded heavily.

After a long moment, Bradley asked, ‘You really like it that much?’

‘Yeah, I love it. You do me, if you’re curious. Minimal risk for you, with a rubber, and I’ll take my chances.’

‘No. No, thanks.’

Colin sighed. Finally rolled up onto his side so he could see Bradley. They looked at each other warily for a while, before Colin laid a gentle hand on Bradley’s chest. ‘So, who d’you lose?’

‘A cousin. An older cousin. My mum’s favourite nephew.’

‘I’m sorry, Bradley.’

‘Yeah. You know, he ended up dying cos he caught a cold. He was on all the drugs. But still, he caught a cold. It, like, got in through a chink in the armour. Became pneumonia. And so on, and so on… Took forever, but they couldn’t stop it.’

‘I’m really sorry,’ he said with perfect sincerity.

‘Me, too.’

Colin lay his head on that strong manly shoulder, and snuggled in close. Bradley held him. After a while, Colin murmured, ‘What about that hand job, then?’

‘Sure.’

So that’s what they did. It wasn’t brilliant, and neither of them lost himself in the passion of it, though they tried – but it got the thing done.

♦

The dark coolness of the small hours. Colin half woke to find Bradley wrapped up tight around him – they’d been spooning, and Colin must have tilted forward, Bradley following after him… Bradley’s cock was pressed hard against Colin’s right buttock. And there was something in the way he held himself, in the way he was slightly tensed rather than relaxed, that meant Bradley wasn’t asleep. ‘Bradley…?’ whispered Colin.

Bradley didn’t say anything, but his hand swept up Colin’s stomach and chest to rest spread against his heart. Colin twisted round to kiss him – started turning around within Bradley’s arms when the kiss became passionate, but Bradley held him where he was. Pushed his hips to dig his cock in even harder against Colin.

After a moment, Colin broke the kiss. Tried to examine Bradley’s expression, but there wasn’t enough light to make it out. He murmured, ‘Changed your mind, my friend?’

Bradley just held him tighter still, bending his head to mouth at Colin’s shoulder, his nape. Starting to rock his hips just a little, to thrust against Colin’s rear.

‘Bradley. Sorry. I’m wanting your consent.’

‘Yes,’ came the whisper.

‘Thank you,’ Colin replied. He reached into the bedside drawer, and after a bit of scrabbling found the lube. Took a good dollop of it, and reached down behind himself. Pushed in and slid his fingers around in a practiced move to spread the lube.

Bradley hadn’t shifted an inch, but he seemed preternaturally focussed on what Colin was doing. ‘Is that so it doesn’t hurt you?’ he asked.

‘No, it doesn’t hurt any more,’ Colin replied quite easily, ‘with or without. It’s to help make sure the rubber doesn’t tear.’

‘Oh.’

‘You wanna feel for yourself? Use your finger. So you know I’m ready for you.’

After a long moment, Bradley let his hand trail down Colin’s side, and round the top of his thigh. Carefully pressed a fingertip inside him. Bradley moaned a little, and shuddered.

Colin reached for a condom packet, and ripped it open. ‘Here, shift back a bit. Let me at you.’ He could prep another man’s cock in the dark, half bent round, with the minimum of elbow room… Experience counted for something. ‘All right. Shall we try it like this? It’s probably easiest.’ Not to mention it was the position in which Bradley had changed his mind. It was the position in which he had felt secure enough to change his mind.

‘Yes,’ came the charged murmur. ‘Colin…’

‘Come on, then. Shift over a bit, and then just push up inside…’ Their hands entwined on Bradley’s cock, guiding him in. ‘Sweet Jesus,’ Colin prayed as Bradley slowly filled him. ‘Man, that’s…’

‘What?’ Bradley said on a sharp breath.

‘Awesome – man, that’s awesome. Ah, _man_ …’ All the way now, and Bradley settling heavily hotly down against him, as if they would weld themselves together, within and without.

‘My – My first time,’ Bradley mumbled against Colin’s shoulder. ‘Inside someone.’

Oh, it was dark and intense and intimate and _perfect_. There was nothing between them, no barrier at all. It was as if they shared the same skin. ‘A ghrá geal,’ Colin found himself murmuring.

‘What’s that?’

 _My bright love…_ ‘Nothing. Bradley – my friend – come on, _move!_ ’

‘Yes.’

‘Fuck me!’

And Bradley tremblingly took his weight on an arm and his knees, shifted in an uncertain stroke, out and then in again. Another, a little more confidently. Another. ‘God, _Colin_ …’ Then he was thrusting for real, finding a range and a rhythm that suited him. Finally pushing a hand down to wrap around Colin’s own hand on his cock – muttering in Colin’s ear, ‘God god god _fuck **Colin**!_ ’ and he was coming, shoving up into Colin like he wanted to be inside him balls and all –

And Colin wanted that, too – Íosa – _Jesus_ , he loved this – he let Bradley take rough clutching care of his cock, and reached down instead to tug on his own balls – and he followed Bradley, his seed pulsing strong and sure with Bradley curled up tight around him like he belonged there.

♦

### nine

Morning. Still early, though it was already light out. Colin woke to find Bradley clumsily gathering his scattered clothes and pulling them on. Bradley cast Colin a sheepish look for getting caught running away, which changed into a troubled expression as Colin watched him.

‘Hey,’ said Colin eventually.

‘Hey.’

It seemed they were both still bleary with sleep, but if they didn’t say anything now, maybe it would never be said. ‘What’s up?’

Bradley shook his head. ‘Just once, yeah? That’s what we agreed.’

‘Yeah.’ Not that he didn’t have some very mixed feelings about that.

‘You don’t wanna stuff up the job,’ Bradley reminded him. He was fully dressed now, though charmingly mussed. ‘I, uh –’ A glance at the bed, at Colin’s nethers under the sheet. ‘We’re not into the same things, anyway. Are we? That was a bit… a bit much – And I –’

‘I’m sorry,’ Colin murmured, wanting to save Bradley from having to say things he’d rather not say. Things Colin would frankly rather not hear.

‘It’s all right. I just –’ Bradley sighed, and sat on the side of the bed. ‘Well, anyway… thank you.’

‘My pleasure,’ Colin responded, lightly yet genuinely. He reached to take Bradley’s hand in his. ‘Still friends?’

‘Of course.’ A sincere and steady look from those beautiful blue eyes, and reassuring pressure from that hand. ‘ _Real_ friends, like you said.’

‘Real friends,’ Colin vowed. And then Bradley walked away.

♦

### ten

Afterwards – especially after the three–day break they all had before meeting again in Wales – it was strange how comfortable Bradley and Colin were together. It was strange how genuinely easy it was to be friends. Maybe Bradley had even been right with his _get it out of my system_ approach. Maybe it helped that the night had been… amazing in many ways, but also ultimately proved how incompatible they were as lovers. As friends, however, they were fitting together perfectly. On his best days, which were many, Bradley seemed to have a particular talent for friendship.

Colin watched Bradley chatting with Holliday Grainger, one of the guest stars – a perfectly lovely girl who was playing Sophia, a villain of the week who wanted to conquer Arthur’s heart and then kill him. Bradley and Holly had worked together before, and he was taking the trouble to be a complete gentleman towards her, in an understated way. Making her feel special, ensuring she felt supported. Colin’s heart warmed to witness it.

He wandered by Bradley after Holly had been called away, and delivered an unvoiced cry right in Bradley’s ear: _‘She’s gonna DIE!’_

Bradley laughed. _Huh._ And in his best Arthur voice, he said, ‘You know, you really do make my blood curdle, Merlin.’

‘Fine! Fine. I’ll be letting you drown, then.’

‘That won’t be necessary.’

Colin chuckled. _‘She’s gonna EXPLODE!’_

‘Perhaps if you could be just a _little_ less happy about it…’

‘Och, where’s the fun in that?’

‘True.’ Bradley tilted his head for a moment, considering. ‘D’you think Arthur would ever kill a young girl? Would he be that… ruthless? Practical.’

‘I guess equal opportunity isn’t very medieval…’

Bradley laughed – and then suddenly had a thought. ‘It’s like in the last episode of the fifth season of _Buffy_ – except you’re Giles, and I’m –’

Colin let out a snort. ‘You’re Buffy, yeah?’

‘Shut up. There’s this god Glory trapped in a man Ben, see, and –’

But Colin was howling with glee. ‘I knew it! I _knew_ you identified with her! And there you were trying to convince me it was a crush on the blonde chick, when we all knew your crush was on Tony!’

Bradley grabbed Colin, and tried to wrestle him to the ground while clapping a hand over his mouth. He might have succeeded in one if he hadn’t also been trying to do the other. ‘Shut up! Will you _shut up?!_ ’

Which of course only made Colin laugh harder. Perfect! ‘ _Ah, now we see the violence inherent in the system!_ ’

‘Shut up!’ Except by now of course Bradley was ruining everything by irrepressibly giggling as well.

‘ _Oh! Come and see the violence inherent in the system! Help! Help! I'm being repressed!_ ’

‘What _are_ you two doing?’ It was the director, Jeremy Webb.

They froze in mid–wrestle. ‘Um… nothing?’ tried Colin.

‘Charming youthful high jinks?’ suggested Bradley.

‘You tear those costumes or get them muddy, and I won’t be feeling very charmed.’

‘No, sir,’ they muttered, letting each other go, and straightening up looking shamefaced for a long moment… Until Colin caught Bradley’s glance, and they started snickering again like naughty school boys.

‘All right,’ said Jeremy in a singsong voice, ‘ _deep_ breaths…’

‘Yes, sir,’ Bradley muttered, as they both tried to comply.

‘Well, I know _one_ thing that’s gonna dampen your spirits... We’re ready to start filming. And that lake is cold!’

‘Oh, _sir!_ ’ they protested in chorus. Which only got them giggling again.

Though Jeremy was right about the lake. It was fucking freezing, and it certainly had the desired effect. _Bloody directors_ , Colin muttered to himself as he hauled Bradley’s dead weight up out of the muddy water for the ninth time. It worked, though. The scene worked. For Merlin was saving his beloved Arthur’s life, and somewhere in there was the heart of the whole show.

♦

Colin was feeling happier and healthier and more confident than he had for far too long a while. Which was maybe why he took the guy up on his offer. Well, it probably also had something to do with not having had sex – other than that one night with Bradley – for _months_. He’d been in a bad place. He was in a better place now.

♦

One of the extras in France. A guy, maybe about Colin’s own age, handsome with short brown hair. Dressed as a knight. Someone Colin hadn’t seen around before. He’d been watching Colin all day with clear intent. Finally, as the afternoon was winding to a close, and it seemed certain that Colin wouldn’t be needed again until after the break for lunch, the guy wandered past where Colin was sitting. Dropped something small onto Colin’s open book, which slid down into his lap. Colin fumbled for it, held it up – belatedly realised what it was, and palmed it before anyone else could see. A condom in a foil packet. Colin turned his head to see the guy strolling along the corridor. Looking back over his shoulder. Wanting to be followed.

Colin followed him.

♦

They hadn’t exchanged names.

The guy was holding himself off the stone wall with outstretched arms, his trousers pushed down his thighs, muttering something in French that sounded sacred, then something that sounded profane – as Colin steadily powered up into him, hands clutching hard at the guy’s helplessly rocking hips to keep him in place. Leaning forward to rub his face against chainmail, to groan something sacred and profane in Gaelic.

A mutter, then, that Colin recognised as his own name in the Picardy accent. Which mightn’t have meant anything much, except that the guy had paused. Colin looked up, and found they had company. Bradley was walking towards them, calm, determined. Silent. And when he was close, when he stood right by the guy’s shoulder, he began unfastening Arthur’s trousers, and he lifted an enquiring brow at the extra. ‘Oui,’ the guy murmured, with a nod. He said Bradley’s name, voice thick.

And Bradley ducked, slipped in under the guy’s near arm and leaned his shoulders back against the wall. Reached his hands to cover Colin’s, to bring the guy’s hips closer to where his own jutted out. ‘Oh aye…’ Colin breathed, inextricably following. They found a rhythm somehow, with Bradley and the extra rubbing against each other, and Colin pushing up into the guy’s tight arse. Colin groaned, close now. Too close already. Bradley was watching him over the guy’s shoulder – and then he leaned in to kiss the other man, a wide–mouthed generous kiss – except those blue eyes stayed open, remaining sharply focussed on Colin.

The man between them shuddered, spilled, but they were ruthless, relentless, keeping him there, riding through his climax, and then each letting their own unfurl. Watching each other. Not letting up though the guy sagged, moaned as if too sensitised. His head fell back, heavy against Colin’s shoulder, and he muttered Colin’s name – Bradley echoing it – and that was enough. Colin let himself go, crushed both the other men up against the wall, and ended it with one long last deep thrust – while Bradley whimpered a little, and followed him.

♦

‘Thank you,’ said Bradley to the extra, who nodded amenably enough, though with his head down. He seemed more intent now on rearranging his costume.

‘Merci,’ Colin offered. When he received a distracted smile, he added, ‘Merci beaucoup.’

The guy pressed a kiss to Colin’s mouth, and then he wandered out.

Colin waited, watching Bradley. Wondering. But when Bradley was tidied up again, he just nodded at Colin, and then he headed off, too. Colin sighed. Gave them a couple of minutes. And then went back to the set, only to find that pretty much everyone had gone to lunch without him.

♦

Bradley and Colin were standing in a long queue at a patisserie, because Bradley apparently couldn’t live a moment longer without an éclair café. Who knew he had such sophisticated tastes? Colin would have guessed chocolate every time.

In any case, they were surrounded by a number of what appeared to be local French people. Colin figured the situation was ideal. He crossed his arms and frowned, as if considering something of great import. Finally, just after the queue had shuffled up one place towards the counter, he said, ‘Oh, and Bradley?’

‘Yes?’

‘You’re _not_ a paedophile. The age of consent in France is actually fifteen.’

Bradley gave him a long–suffering grimace, manfully ignoring the couple of surprised glances they received. ‘Oh, very funny, Morgan.’

‘I thought you’d be relieved! Cos, you know, you’d have been in all kinds of trouble in England. You have to be sixteen to be legal there. As you probably know.’

‘God, _will_ you shut up?’

Colin considered him thoughtfully for a long moment. ‘He _was_ fifteen, wasn’t he?’

‘Shut up, Morgan, or I will _make_ you shut up.’

‘How’re you proposing to do that?’

Bradley cast him a hard glance. ‘I’m outing you with a kiss. A real full–blooded kiss, right here in the middle of all these nice people.’

Colin chuckled in appreciation. ‘Touché!’

‘Hah!’ Bradley victorious, and happy with it.

Colin smiled.

♦

The first episode of _Merlin_ finally aired in Britain while the cast and crew were still in France. Everyone would have been tense anyway, but it was competing with the first episode of _The X Factor_. They all gathered together that evening in the hotel restaurant, increasingly anxious. Reassuring and congratulatory messages arrived from various friends and family members who were seeing the show for the first time – which was all very nice, but they were waiting for one message in particular. Finally the figures came through in a text message to Stuart Orme. Over six and a half million viewers, with a thirty percent share – the third best ratings for the evening. The sense of delight and relief was loud and palpable – and suddenly it was all real. They had been filming this thing for months, without any feedback or reaction from the outside world, but now it was out there. And within these terms at least, it was successful. It was being watched.

Bradley came over and very solemnly shook Colin’s hand. ‘Well done, that man.’

‘You, too,’ Colin replied. Then he stood up, and grabbed his friend in a bear hug. ‘We did it,’ he said, pressing his face into Bradley’s golden hair – which smelled clean, with a hint of green apples.

‘Of course we did,’ Bradley said, as if there were never any doubt. ‘We’re brilliant.’

Colin held on tight, and echoed, ‘We’re brilliant, you and me.’ And he meant it in all kinds of ways.

♦

### eleven

They agreed to meet up in London, which Colin hadn’t been expecting – he’d thought Bradley would want to give it a rest for the four months of the off–season, given that they were living pretty much in each other’s pocket while filming _Merlin_. ‘No, it’ll be great,’ said Bradley. ‘I’ll take you to my gay pub, if you’ll take me to yours.’

♦

Bradley’s gay pub of choice was swathed in rainbow pride flags, served boutique beer and café latté, and contained an alarming number of ferns. Ferns required plenty of light. _There is too much light in this bar_ , Colin concluded. Bradley’s friends had names like Derek and Roger, and seemed to own limitless supplies of polo shirts in every possible colour as long as it was pastel. Bradley’s particular friend Trent was so very out ’n proud ’n camp that any nearby broadcast reception devices let alone gaydars were probably short–circuited.

‘This isn’t gonna work, is it?’ Bradley murmured discreetly into Colin’s ear.

‘You and me, yes,’ Colin replied. ‘Me and Trent, doubtful.’

‘Take me to yours, then.’

‘They won’t even be open yet.’

Bradley rolled his eyes, then offered with a wry grin, ‘So, in the meantime, can I get you a cappuccino?’

‘I’ll have a long black americano, thanks. And a coffee.’

‘Damn, I was hoping you liked your men short, sweet and white.’

Colin grinned at him. ‘If he comes with Devonshire cream, sure…’

Bradley pressed a kiss to the top of Colin’s hair as he got up. It was a friendly kiss. Not _just_ a friendly kiss. A _friendly_ kiss. It was nice.

♦

Colin’s gay club of choice was painted black, and could not be said to advertise itself.

‘I wouldn’t have even known it was here,’ said Bradley. ‘Ooh! Kind of like The Leaky Cauldron in _Harry Potter_.’

Colin sighed. ‘Probably not so much once you’re inside.’

Bradley grinned. ‘No, you’re right, probably not.’

‘Anyway, there’s one telltale sign that this is a gay club.’ Colin gave Bradley a moment to cast another frown over the almost blank façade. And then he pointed to the discreet sign on the front door, which advised _Entrance at Rear_.

Bradley shot a wry glance at Colin, and laughed. Colin led him in.

The interior was grungy and unkempt. Everyone except Bradley was dressed in black, inky blue or dark purple. Colin’s friends were a motley group, with names like Dylan, Dez and Deeva. It was about as successful an encounter as Colin’s with Trent.

‘Good grief, how incredibly _blonde_ you are,’ Dylan eventually accused.

Bradley pouted beautifully for a moment – which didn’t exactly leave Dylan unaffected – and then slid into an uncanny echo of Dylan’s studiously casual pose. ‘And how pretentious _you_ are,’ he retorted in the same languid tones.

Dylan stared at him for one long horrible moment. And then finally decided to be amused. The group of them burst out laughing, and Dylan bought the next three rounds of drinks.

Well, thought Colin, perhaps this wasn’t going to be quite so big a disaster after all.

♦

### twelve

‘Take me back to your place,’ Bradley said on the evening of Colin’s birthday. ‘I haven’t even seen it yet!’

Colin considered him for a long moment. They’d been to a movie – and it had been Bradley’s turn to choose, which he’d insisted on despite it supposedly being Colin’s day – so the movie was something a bit weird starring Sarah Michelle Gellar, and Colin should have known better than to think Bradley meant the adaptation of the AS Byatt novel… They’d been to a movie, and grabbed a bite to eat, but Bradley seemed bored and restless. ‘You wanna get a drink?’ Colin asked. He wondered if the truce between Bradley and Dylan would hold in honour of the birthday Colin shared with EM Forster.

‘I wanna see your flat.’

‘Why?’

‘You’re my friend, and I wanna see you in your natural habitat.’

 _Huh._

‘Come on, Colin… You’ve been to mine often enough.’

And very revealing it had been, too. Modern, but not so recently built that it didn’t have a spacious feel to it. Relaxed clutter and just the right amount of comfortable furniture. White walls and elegant proportions. A few _Buffy_ and football posters adding colour. The flatmate an easygoing straight guy, who seemed a surprisingly effective foil for Bradley’s louder moments. They were obviously fond of each other. All in all, it felt as if Bradley _belonged_ there. Colin wasn’t really sure he wanted Bradley to know where Colin himself belonged.

Of course, Bradley wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

♦

‘Cool,’ said Bradley, nosing around while Colin fetched them a beer each from the tiny kitchen. Colin watched him, forcing himself not to protest as Bradley glanced over the bookshelves, the pile of DVDs, the scripts and papers tottering over a side–table. He opened the few doors to cupboards and other rooms, poking his head in. Found the Caron Keating award on the bathroom windowsill. ‘How very self–effacing of you!’

Colin snorted. ‘It catches the sun in the afternoon, and glows like something precious.’

‘It _is_ precious,’ said Bradley with quiet earnestness. He wandered on, but there wasn’t really all that much else to see.

Colin cast a look around as well, trying to see the flat himself through fresh eyes. It had been created from the attic of an old house, so the layout wasn’t exactly logical, and the roof angled across both the main room and the bedroom. The walls were painted a dark forest green, which made the place feel small but safe and somehow… alive. It was immediately obvious, from the sparse furniture if nothing else, that only one person lived here, and he didn’t often have guests. At least, not the sort who expected to sit and converse in the living room. There was a queen–sized bed, though, with navy blue sheets, plenty of pillows, and two thick duvets and a blanket. ‘I get cold,’ Colin explained, when he saw Bradley lift an enquiring brow. Bradley found his way out onto the little balcony that had been let into the roofline. Colin had a chair out there, wedged into a corner, for reading or contemplating or drinking an early morning coffee. ‘Next door,’ Colin said, pointing down to his left, ‘they have the most amazing garden. And they’re never there. So I get to sit here and look at it, you know? It’s a, uh… a secret that only I know about. Well, me and the gardener, I guess.’

‘Cool,’ said Bradley. He nodded, and stepped back inside. Cast another glance around. ‘I like it.’

Colin surprised himself by saying, ‘Good.’

Bradley reached a hand to circle finger and thumb around Colin’s wrist. Stepped near, drew Colin close… ‘I like _you_ ,’ Bradley confessed.

Colin’s heart skipped, and he whispered Bradley’s name.

Bradley’s arms eased around Colin’s waist. ‘You like me, too, don’t you?’

 _Yes…_ He had to clear his throat and try again. ‘Yes.’ But Colin’s hands came up to push gently against Bradley’s shoulders, fending him off. ‘Doesn’t everyone?’

A soft wry laugh. ‘Strangely, _no_.’

‘You English are so self–deprecating.’

‘They really don’t.’

‘But you’re so… you’re so _ab **surd** ly_ beautiful.’

That delightful laugh again. Colin could listen to it all day and all night. Bradley whispered, ‘I’m glad _you_ think so.’ They were rocking slightly, side to side, almost as if they were dancing. Bradley’s hand spread, shaping itself to the small of Colin’s back. And he asked, ‘Kiss me…?’

 _Yes…_ Colin let his hands slip up to Bradley’s nape, to wedge fingers into the fall of golden hair. And their mouths met, gentle. Kind. They were kind to each other.

♦

This time it worked perfectly.

♦

Bradley moving over him, steady and sure, holding him, rubbing against him – with just enough lube slick between them to weld them together, but with not _quite_ enough pressure, not _quite_ enough friction – ‘Íosa… Bradley… Jesus… _please…_ ’ – but he continued on and on, endless like the ocean, each shift of those hips a wave rising and falling and never crashing, those beautiful blue eyes looking down at him, into him, honest and true and open like the sky. Until at last the orgasm welled up within Colin, slowly grew up and up – and no matter how much he begged and pleaded, no matter how hard he clutched with his hands or tried to push up against Bradley’s weight, Bradley would not be hurried, but just let it mount and mount, Colin dragging in breath, almost _desperate_ , struggling for faith – until at last he spilled over, and still Bradley continued, even through his own orgasm as if he hardly even noticed – Colin coming and coming as if there could be no end to it –

Until at last Colin collapsed, closed his eyes, shuddered as it became too much, _too much_ – and Bradley whispered, ‘I love you,’ and finally lay down upon him quiet, tucked his head in beside Colin’s, and they held each other close.

♦

### thirteen

For nineteen days and nights they were inseparable. It was the best time of Colin’s entire life.

♦

Bradley suggested they spend their last night together at Colin’s place. Then he disappeared for about an hour in the late evening, with no explanation. Colin felt pretty disgruntled by this, but he supposed at least it let him get his packing done.

When Bradley returned, he just held out his hand and said, ‘Come on.’

Colin shrugged, and went with him. To his surprise, Bradley led him out the back of the house. And then over to the side fence below Colin’s flat. ‘What’s going on?’ Colin asked suspiciously.

‘We’re visiting your secret garden,’ Bradley told him. He crouched down a bit, linking his hands to provide a step. ‘Come on. One foot on my knee, the other on my hands, then I’ll give you a boost over.’

Colin regarded the fence a bit sceptically, but then shrugged again and complied. He couldn’t deny his heart was skipping along with excitement. With a whoosh and a breathless laugh he was launched over the wooden palings, and then found himself standing on a garden bed between shrubs. Then suddenly Bradley was landing on him, and they clutched at each other, giggling, trying to stay upright.

‘Uh, did I not tell you the bit about moving out of the way?’ Bradley asked.

‘Mustn’t have been paying attention.’

‘Typical.’ Bradley grabbed his hand again. ‘Come on, then.’

There were two braziers alight at the far end of the lawn. Colin gaped around him at the garden he’d only seen from above. It was even more gorgeous now he was in the midst of it. Happy, healthy plants everywhere, at every level from the groundcover up to the tallest trees. Of course much of it was bare and dormant at this time of year, but whoever had planted it knew how to make the most of winter as well as every other season. And in the middle of the lawn, there was a bed made up. It proved to be a blow–up mattress, covered with layers of blankets, and a fake fur over the top to add a touch of the exotic.

‘Bradley…’ breathed Colin.

‘I want to fuck you,’ Bradley announced.

Colin looked at him. They were still hand in hand. ‘I want that, too,’ he said.

♦

Bradley had organised everything. Condoms, lube. A leather cock ring. Colin looked at him questioningly as he lay there beside him, and Bradley shrugged, a little embarrassed. He explained, ‘I want to last for you.’

‘All right,’ said Colin easily.

‘You said you loved it.’

‘I do.’

Bradley suddenly leaned in and pressed a kiss to his mouth. Muttered, forehead to forehead with his eyes closed, ‘God, I’d fuck you all night, if I could.’

Colin lay back in the bed with a groan, wrenching off the last of his clothes and tossing them out onto the grass. Bradley struggled up to sit back on his heels with his thighs wide, giving his own cock a tug or two to make it as hard as possible. Then he slid the leather strap around the base of his cock and balls, and clipped it closed.

Breathing hard, eyes wide, Colin reached for the lube – but Bradley beat him to it. Squeezed a bit too much out onto trembling fingers. Shifted closer to Colin, who bent his knees, planted his feet on the mattress, and let his thighs fall apart. Bradley found his way easily enough, reaching down, carefully running a finger tip back along Colin’s perineum to finally find his goal, to gently push inside. To turn and then twist – Colin gasped, and his hips bucked up – before Bradley withdrew – Colin moaned in need. Bradley was really shaking now, but he managed to roll a rubber onto his darkly engorged cock, and then he knelt between Colin’s legs. ‘All right?’ he asked hoarsely.

‘More than you could know,’ Colin whispered.

And, as before, their hands entwined on Bradley’s cock, guiding him in. Colin prayed as Bradley pushed further and further, filling him, completing him, banishing all his emptiness, filling him full. ‘Colin… Colin…’ Bradley was chanting his name, looking down in between them to where they joined, then lifting his eyes to penetrate Colin’s own gaze. ‘Colin… _god_ … do this all night… do this forever…’

‘A ghrá mo chroí,’ he murmured.

‘Please…’

‘My heart’s beloved,’ Colin said thickly.

Bradley groaned from his depths – from his heart and his gut and his poor bound balls and his soul. _‘Yes… Colin… oh please… please… yes…’_

They fucked like that while the stars wheeled overhead – then Bradley scooped Colin up in one arm, and brought him up with him while Bradley sat back on his heels, Bradley’s hands worshipping his back while Colin lifted himself and fucked Bradley’s cock with his legs wrapped around Bradley’s waist and his arms on Bradley’s shoulders – then Bradley lay back, and Colin rode him – until they were both quaking with need, and Bradley cradled him again, and flipped them over, clumsy, but neither of them cared – and with Bradley lying over him again, with Bradley’s hand clutching at his cock, Colin twisted, stretched down, fumbled for the cock ring – after an unbearable moment released it – and Bradley shouted out in agony, the orgasm forcing him deeper still within Colin, who came in the midst of this mixed–up fucked–up pain and pleasure, crying his lover’s name, sobbing in Gaelic – or was that Bradley mouthing obscenities, endearments, pledges – collapsing…

And they were one.

♦

They slept for a while, more truly spent than they’d ever been before, and then they lay quietly together, just holding on. Just loving, while the stars continued their slow course round the sky.

But eventually Colin sighed. He had to leave in the morning for Mull, and the last weeks of filming for _The Sea Change_. ‘Bradley…?’ he whispered.

‘Mmm…?’

‘I don’t want you to come to the station to see me off.’

‘I want to come,’ Bradley said, easily. Just stating facts. Not as if he were arguing.

‘What will you do if you don’t?’

‘Dunno. Sit at home and cry?’

A reluctant smile quirked Colin’s lips, even though he figured Bradley was exaggerating for comic effect. ‘All right. You’d better come, then.’

‘All right.’ Just quietly. Not as if it were a victory.

‘And, Bradley? I don’t want you to call me while I’m away.’

Bradley sighed. But this time he didn’t disagree.

‘I need… I need some time to think.’

‘I know.’

‘I just… I don’t know… I don’t know if I –’

‘Yeah, I understand,’ Bradley said. ‘It’s all right.’

 _I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I can love you._

‘It’s all right, Colin,’ Bradley whispered.

♦

### fourteen

Except that when they met again in Wales to start filming the second season of _Merlin_ , it was immediately clear to Colin that everything had changed. All that time he’d spent in Mull thinking about this, or deliberately _not_ thinking about it, trying to reach some kind of conclusion – that was all time wasted. Because the simple fact of the matter was this. _This._ Bradley James and Colin Morgan. They were one.

They made it up to a hotel room – one of the hotel rooms, Colin wasn’t even sure whose it was – and stood there, Colin having walked right across the room, Bradley stranded by the door – and stood there, breathless, staring at each other. Emotionally, Colin was almost nothing but scared. Intellectually, he was pensive, troubled. Physically, he was wrecked.

And Bradley was pale, so very pale and his blue eyes were wide. It seemed he’d almost sink to the floor any moment. ‘I promised myself –’ he said roughly. ‘I promised myself I wouldn’t –’

‘Wouldn’t what?’ Colin asked, suddenly terrified. He’d been assuming they were both feeling exactly the same way. He’d _known_ it, but now –

‘Three times. Three times, I’ve come to you, and –’

‘What? Bradley, what?’

Bradley stared at him from across the room. His hands trembled where they hung loose by his thighs. ‘I promised myself. The fourth time. You come to me.’

‘ _Jesus_ , Bradley. D’you think I care about my pride?’ Colin stumbled forward. ‘D’you think I wouldn’t crawl to you if I had to?’

‘Not about pride,’ Bradley asserted with a broken kind of dignity. ‘About making sure it’s what you want. What _you_ want, Colin Morgan.’

‘Íosa,’ he muttered in prayer – and then he was there, _there_ where he belonged, taking Bradley into his arms, and Bradley grabbing him up close and tight almost as if he’d really feared Colin wouldn’t come to him. ‘Sweet Jesus, Bradley…’ Bradley’s hands hard on him, exactly as they both needed. ‘It’s not about whether we want it or not,’ Colin said, mouth muffled against Bradley’s jaw, his throat, his shoulder.

‘No?’ Bradley muttered against Colin’s hair.

‘No. It’s already happened. It’s inevitable. And here we are. Together.’

‘Together,’ Bradley echoed. And then they made it so.

♦

### fifteen

Things calmed down a little after those first few hours. But that was all right, too, because once they were calmer, they could feel the sold foundations of it. The friendship. The trust. The liking, and the affection, and the respect. Which made it feel as if they might actually be able to make it work in the long term.

It still came as a bit of a shock, however, when Bradley announced two weeks later that his flatmate was leaving cos he was finally moving in with his girlfriend. Rather, the shock was when Bradley immediately followed that up with the question, ‘So, d’you wanna move in with me?’

‘What?’

‘You heard me,’ said Bradley.

Colin just put down his fork and stared at him. He didn’t think he’d be finishing lunch. After a long moment he asked, ‘As flatmates or –? Same bedroom or separate?’

‘Whatever you think will work.’

‘Well, uh…’

Bradley gave a little shrug, and his glance slid away, but it was obvious he cared about the answer. ‘You can have that bedroom. Do what you want with it. I mean – you know – if it was up to me you’d be sleeping with me every night, but I’ll leave that to you to decide. You could have a bed in there. Or you could make it a library, a study, or something. Whatever suits, yeah?’

Colin was still staring. ‘You’ve been thinking about this, then?’

‘Well, yeah, but _that_ was a no–brainer. You’d want your own space, wouldn’t you?’

‘Yes. Yes, I would.’ _Oh Jesus…_ He swallowed. Hard. ‘How long before you need a decision?’

Bradley opened his mouth for a moment, then changed his mind and frowned at him. ‘Sorry, what?’

‘I mean, how long before you need someone else to help pay the rent?’

‘Oh, don’t worry about that. We’re earning decent money now. That really doesn’t matter.’

Except, of course it did. ‘London’s the most expensive city to live in in the world!’

Bradley just shrugged. ‘The offer’s there. I know you love your place, but if we’re gonna live together, you just don’t have the room. That’s a one–person flat, if ever I saw one.’

‘Yeah,’ Colin agreed. Which was when he belatedly realised what he’d have to give up. He did love his own flat, his home, the dark forest green place where he belonged. And anyway – ‘D’you really _want_ to live together?’ When Bradley seemed about to protest, Colin continued, ‘We’re already living together, pretty much, eight months of the year – for as long as the show runs. Could be four years, including this one. D’you really need to have me in your pocket the other four months as well?’

‘Yes,’ said Bradley.

‘Oh.’

‘When the show ends, and during the off–season, then either of us could be working anywhere. We might hardly be together at all. If we share a flat, then at least we have somewhere to come home to. Somewhere we belong. The two of us. Like you said, together.’

Colin nodded slowly. ‘Can I think about it?’

‘Sure.’

‘I mean… Jesus, Bradley, I appreciate the offer. I – I mean…’ He was so useless at this. ‘Thank you. Bradley, thank you.’

Bradley just nodded a bit remotely, and tucked back into his lunch. Pretending he wasn’t really fussed about the answer at all. After a long moment, he said, ‘Eat up, will you? You’re still losing weight. I don’t want you to just disappear completely one day, you know.’

‘I won’t disappear.’ And Colin reached out to grasp Bradley’s arm in reassurance. Because he already knew what the answer was. He just had to find a way to deal with it.

♦

### sixteen

On the weekend before they all headed to France again, Bradley and Colin took the train down to Devon so that Colin could meet Bradley’s family. It was stupid of him, Colin later saw with all the painful clarity of hindsight, to not realise all that would entail.

The two of them walked into the house together, a pleasant suburban place that felt as if it had been lived in by the James family for decades. They put their bags down in the hall, and walked through to the kitchen which opened up into a conservatory, where they were faced by Bradley’s parents, both sisters and a guy who was presumably the fiancé of whichever one of them was getting married. Bradley’s mum hugged him. And then –

And then Bradley dragged Colin close with an arm hooked round his neck, pressed a kiss to Colin’s cheek, and announced, ‘I think you all know Colin… Colin Morgan. He’ll be my date for the wedding.’

‘Oh, so you’re coming, then?’ was the only response to this, from the womenfolk.

‘Of _course_ we are,’ said Bradley as if it had never even been an issue. ‘We’ll just need to make sure we have that weekend off.’

Colin, meanwhile, was waiting for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

♦

‘You could have warned me!’ Colin insisted in a fierce whisper, conscious that anything might be heard through the walls. The walls of Bradley’s old bedroom. Which they were sharing, for fuck’s sake.

Bradley just looked at him, and asked in a normal if sardonic tone of voice, ‘You really needed to be warned that I’m out to my family?’

Colin paused. ‘Well, no. I guess not. I just didn’t think about it. So, _you_ never realised that I’m –’

Bradley was suddenly horror–struck. ‘You mean, you’re _not?_ Your own family don’t know?’

‘I don’t know _what_ they know,’ he sourly replied. ‘We’ve never talked about it.’

‘Oh god, _Colin_.’ Bradley sat down on the bed, shocked.

‘This is never gonna work, is it?’ Colin asked miserably. They were incompatible, him and Bradley. He’d been wise enough to know that in the beginning. He must have forgotten it since, distracted by the gorgeousness that was Bradley James. ‘You and me, it’s a complete mismatch.’

Bradley was staring at him with a dawning fear. As if for the first time he really thought that maybe it actually _wasn’t_ gonna work after all. ‘It’s not a mismatch,’ he protested weakly.

Colin just looked at him, echoing Bradley’s earlier sardonic attitude. ‘You really think that?’

Silence.

Colin sank to sit on the floor at the foot of the bed. And wondered how the hell he was going to get through the weekend.

♦

### seventeen

He was scrupulously polite to Bradley’s family, and played the role of Bradley’s perfect–if–undemonstrative boyfriend as well as he possibly could. And then when they finally got back to London, Colin almost literally _ran_ for his own flat – alone – and locked himself in. He had one night. One night in this refuge which he had been thinking of giving up.

Which he was going to give up. _Jesus, preserve me._ Colin lay in his bed tightly cocooned in both duvets and the blanket, and _shook_. Wondering if he’d ever have anything private and just–for–himself again if he was with Bradley.

 _When_ he was with Bradley. Oh, this was madness. Bradley would be as discreet and as careful as knew how, respecting Colin’s choices about his own life – despite which, sooner or later, probably within a few months, Colin would in effect be as out as Bradley was. He did not want that. He could not handle it.

He had to. Jesus, this was appalling. He had never felt so exposed. But it was going to get far far worse before it got better, wasn’t it?

♦

### eighteen

Bradley was scared again when they met at St Pancras the next morning. Standing there with a small knot of the others, face too pale, blue eyes too wide. He watched Colin walk towards them as if witnessing his executioner approach, carrying an axe. So Colin stepped right up to him, and slid a hand into Bradley’s, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Bradley relaxed into him as if he’d rather like to be a puddle on the floor just then. Colin took a breath and turned to greet everyone else. Which was made a hell of a lot easier when the first person he saw was Richard, and Richard was considering them both very fondly, very warmly. Colin nodded a hello, and Richard nodded, too, in acknowledgement, with his smile turning proud.

All right. So far, so good. Colin took another breath, and turned to the others.

♦

‘Inevitable,’ Colin said into Bradley’s throat as they lay, fully dressed, on the bed in his hotel room in France. They weren’t doing anything other than holding each other tight. That just seemed to be the priority right then. ‘We’re inevitable.’

‘I thought you said incompatible.’

‘Did I? I was wrong.’

‘I know! _I know!_ I didn’t think _you_ knew. Oh god…’ Bradley shook his head. ‘Colin… I thought I’d lost you. _Again_.’

‘Don’t think you’re ever gonna lose me now,’ Colin admitted very quietly.

‘Not ever?’

‘Never, no.’

‘Inevitable…’ And Bradley was relieved enough, confident enough, to actually chuckle. ‘ _Colin,_ _my density has brought me to you_.’

‘Idiot,’ Colin said, amused despite himself.

He was on a roll, doing the voice and everything. Bradley shifted away a little to look at Colin very earnestly. ‘ _Yes. Yes. I'm Bradley, Bradley James. I'm your density. I mean... your destiny._ ’

Colin came back with Shakespeare. ‘ _Hereafter… I shall desire more love and knowledge of you._ ’

Bradley moaned a little, as if Colin might seduce him with words alone, and his hands began roaming, rumpling Colin’s clothes.

Colin shifted up onto an elbow. ‘I love you. Is it too late to say that?’

Bradley shrugged. ‘You’ve said it before.’

‘I mean it. I’ve always meant it. Like you want me to. _Always._ ’

Bradley faltered, and just looked at him for a long moment. ‘Always…?’

‘Since I fell in love with your headshot cos you’re so fucking beautiful, and you’re confident in ways I doubt I’ll ever be, and they told me how wrong you’d be for me. I’ve loved you since then.’

‘Sorry, what – They told you _what_ –?’

‘In as many words. But then I saw you the next day, and then I got to know you, and then –’

And then Bradley surged up and kissed him. And just holding each other was no longer enough.

♦

### nineteen

And so, inevitably, once they were back in Wales, Colin took Bradley home to Armagh for a weekend. And he came out properly to his family, and he introduced Bradley as his boyfriend. And he didn’t want to think too much about any of that, or remember it in any detail.

He made his mother cry.

Of course they had pretty much known already, but knowing was different to _knowing_. There was worry and fear and anger and resentment and grief to get through. Misconceptions and lies to clear up. Good things to assure them of. Father O’Darragh to consult. Neil was all right about it, and helped as much as he could, though even he could be pretty clueless at times.

Colin’s mother wept. Colin would rather have _died_ than make his mother cry. But in the midst of it, with tears in his own eyes, he looked at Bradley, and Bradley was watching him with the most amazing love and patience and compassion. And this was so unexpected that he took Colin’s breath away, and even in the absolute **_dire_** _ness_ of that moment, Colin thought that maybe, just _maybe_ , this would be worth it. And Colin’s mother was wise enough to also see this proof of the good heart of Bradley James, and maybe that’s when she began to reconcile herself to it all.

But, Jesus, that weekend was by far the worst time of Colin’s life.

♦

### twenty

Once Colin’s lease was up, he finally moved the rest of his stuff over to Bradley’s flat. _Their_ flat. And when they weren’t in Wales or France, they slept together each night in Bradley’s bed. _Their_ bed. They slept in each other’s arms. Colin chose a dark blue–green colour, and Bradley helped him paint the other bedroom, which became Colin’s library. His refuge. Bradley was always polite enough to knock, if the door was closed. It all fell into place. As if it really were inevitable.

♦

So, one night when they were at home together, in the darkness of the small hours, Colin whispered to a drowsy Bradley who was wrapped up close around him – ‘You wanna fuck me for real? Bareback, I mean. No rubber?’

Bradley groaned a little, waking up _fast_. Colin could feel Bradley’s awareness change in a moment from wide and sleepy to sharp and _focussed_. Focussed entirely on Colin.

‘We’re safe now,’ Colin reminded him. They’d had the usual insurance medicals as the second season’s filming got underway, and shown each other the results. They were both negative. But they hadn’t done or even said anything about it until now. ‘You wanna try it?’

‘Yes.’

Colin couldn’t really see Bradley’s expression in the dark. He asked, very carefully, ‘Do you mind about – about not being safe?’

But Bradley replied, quite openly and undramatically, ‘If it’s just you and me, then we’re safe, aren’t we?’

‘No more Santiago?’

‘No more handsome French knights?’

‘I gave them up already.’

‘Then we’re safe.’

But they just held each other there for a long while, as if getting used to taking yet another significant step in being together.

Eventually Bradley commented, ‘You really like fucking, don’t you?’

Colin chuckled. They both knew the answer to that. ‘Yeah, but it’s _you_ , Bradley. I’ll do anything with you. I can live without fucking, if you’d rather not.’ Colin rubbed his hand along the length of Bradley’s forearm. ‘You may have noticed, I’m also really liking the frot.’

Bradley nodded, but then he declared, ‘I wanna do **_every_** _thing_ with you, Colin. I don’t care any more. We can do everything.’

Colin turned further into his arms, and kissed the man.

But Bradley wasn’t done talking yet. ‘I always thought virginity was one thing. But it’s a whole lot of things, isn’t it? What kind of virginity can you give me?’

‘Nothing – sorry. It’s all gone.’

‘That’s all right.’

‘I, uh – I’m coming out for you. That’s massive, for me. Will that do?’

Bradley kissed him. ‘That’s the most awesome thing _ever_.’ But then he tucked his head in against Colin’s shoulder, and whispered, ‘You know what I’m saying, don’t you? I’m saying _you_ can fuck _me_.’

And Colin moaned, and caught him up hard.

♦

But of course he wasn’t gonna rush that. He wasn’t gonna hurt Bradley, not at all if he could help it. So Colin spent a lovely long while that night, lying between Bradley’s thighs, mouthing and licking and sucking and fingering, gently driving him crazy with need. And when Bradley had gone from groaning to begging to cursing to whimpering, then Colin finally let him come, his forefinger possessing the man, Colin’s mouth being possessed, and Bradley moaning out his name as if it were an answered prayer and a returned pledge and a shared endearment all in one.

♦

Afterwards, Colin commented, ‘That’s the first time I’ve tasted a man’s spunk.’ Which wasn’t quite a kind of virginity, but it was plenty significant in its own way with all it said about their future together.

‘Mmm… How was it?’

‘Oh, _ambrosia_ … Like the spunk of the gods.’

‘Prat,’ said Bradley. But he sounded both pleased and proud, as if despite Colin’s bantering tone he assumed this was true.

‘Idiot,’ said Colin.

‘I love you, too.’

♦

### twenty–one

They were lying in the grass down beside the castle one afternoon, careful to stay in the shade of the trees. And Colin felt as warm and happy and pure as the infinite blue sky arching above them. So he rested a hand on Bradley’s chest where he could feel the steady deep beat of the man, and he murmured, ‘Tá mo chroí istigh ionat.’

‘What’s that?’ Bradley asked him easily. He lifted his head, and pressed a kiss to Colin’s hair, and Colin didn’t even care who saw them.

‘My heart is within you,’ he translated.

And Bradley’s hand came up to press Colin’s closer against him, before taking Colin’s hand and holding it against Colin’s own heartbeat. ‘And mine within you,’ he vowed.

♦


End file.
